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The Capture
"Guys, guys! We just got a lead! Somewhere in New York, Supernova robbed a bank. While that wasn't enough, they made contact with a spy they sent to scout the place out. They call him Blackhole. Get your guns and get your twinkies, because we're going to have you there in T-Minus 15 minutes!" -Crow Summary Transcript Beginning (Blackhole) Blackhole wasn't expecting... visitors. Sun had told him he'd be picked up early tomorrow morning by Sattelite and Cruiser. However, it was apparent someone else had plans for him. No worry. It was obvious the Paladins were pulling up long before they got there. It was 11:00 PM at this point, and everyone in these slums he was hiding in was long since asleep. Not for long. He knew something would happen. Someone would screw up. Someone would leak something. Whatever had happened, it didn't matter now. He had to get out or get fucked. He got up and stretched his arms for a quick second. He had been getting drowsy, however, he could already feel the adrenaline to begin to pump into him. Blackhole leaned to the left of his chair and picked up his S95, complete with a 100-round BETA-C magazine. Hopefully, it'd be enough to fend off the fuckers. Twisting around, he looked for any signs of loose evidence. He wouldn't want to leave anything behind after all, as that could pose a threat to Supernova. Nothing. Ok. '' Slapping the priming handle of his S95, he fired a short burst at his window, blowing it open. He jumped out onto the rain roof between the first and second floors and proceeded to jump onto the roof and swung off of it onto the sidewalk. He hit his keyfob and his bike turned on. Thankfully no-one had tried to steal the damn thing as if they had, he'd be in some deep shit. He could hear the Paladins closing in. They were probably going around 80 MPH. Those Crimson operatives had no self-control. He revved up his bike and took off down the main road. The Paladin drivers heard him and took off, hitting 100 MPH. Problematically, the road was a straightaway. It'd be easy for the Paladins to keep up with him. And if they caught up with him, they'd either mow him down or take him hostage. Neither was a good option. The first Paladin came into view of him. He blasted a few rounds at it, but to no avail. He muttered under his breath, "What the hell, man. You telling me Crimson uses armored-cars now?" before increasing speed. He could feel the wind blasting onto him. He'd need to slow down or risk crashing and burning. Also not a smart option. They weren't shooting at him. Good. That meant they wanted to take him alive. A more complicated task, and it didn't appear as if they had the capability. ''Fools. He laughed and slowed down as he saw his opportunity to turn and drive to the city. If he could attract the police, they'd go for the Paladins. While the United States didn't know of Supernova, they and Crimson weren't on the best of terms. Given an opportunity, officers from across the city would swarm to them for a chance to gun them down. Rebel "Rebel, I'm gonna need you to make a call." Lancelot passed his phone to Rebel, then hit the gas. Rebel fumbled for a second due to the increase in speed, but thankfully didn't drop it. Rebel switched to the call app. She turned her focus to Lance. "Ok, then. Who do you need me to call, and what do you want?" Lance swerved the vehicle to hit a hard turn, and the Paladin shook. Lancelot cleared his throat and yelled over the noise and gunfire. "Try Armera! We need more vans to block Blackhole from getting into the city. They owe us a favor, and they're fast." Rebel furiously tapped the keys of Lance's phone and hit enter. The phone began calling and after what seemed like a month, the call was answered. "Arnold's Toys, how can I he--" Rebel cut them off and quickly responded with "Armera, Crimson needs a favor. We're chasing down some guy on a Motorbike, however, he's going towards the city. He could lead us straight to the police if we don't cut him off. Could you block him off for us? What's in it for you? Well, we could ship you some stolen goods from the English Military. You'll take it? Great. We're currently on-- Oh, you traced it. That works too. Bye!" Lancelot pressed on, putting the pedal to the metal. The Paladin shook a bit as it's speed passed 100 MPH. "Please tell me you got us some backup", he begged. Rebel put on a reassuring voice. "Don't worry, they're already barricading. We just need to chase Blackhole into them." Rebel turned her focus to Minister, who had been silent for most of the chase. "Minister, can you stress him out a bit? Take you're RPA and freak him out, yeah?" Minister didn't say anything, however, he rolled down the window and leaned out of the Paladin a bit and started blasting. Blackhole Blackhole pressed on, powering through darkness and heavy winds. He weaved through the roads which were beginning to twist and blasted towards the city. Then he heard gunshots. They were shooting at him, at while he couldn't see it, he could gear the bullets impacting on the ground behind him. Another smashed into his bike, no, wait, two hits. His bike started leaking gas, and then one third and final round pierced his shoulderblade. He jolted in pain but managed to keep going. Minutes passed. He knew he was losing a lot of blood and that his bike was almost out of gas. He couldn't be captured. He refused to stop. And then, he saw lights. He hit a hard turn and blacked out. Blackhole's bike flew out from under him, veering right past an Armera truck and exploding. Any closer and it would've collided. Blackhole tumbled down the road, his duffel bag and S95 trailing behind him. Armera Agents When they'd gotten the call from Crimson, Joshua Banks didn't mind going out so late. He'd been unable to sleep, as his mother had been hospitalized after a stroke, and he wanted something to distract him. However, he didn't expect the person Crimson wanted to have one foot in hell. He examined Blackhole for a few seconds, before turning around to exclaim, "Ashley! Get the damn first-aid kit! I don't know what those Crimson operatives did to him, but it sure is bad!" A small woman popped out from the shotgun side of his truck, carrying a medic bag. She hurried over there and began bandaging the wound. While she worked, she told Josh that Blackhole had been lucky, and the bullet had both missed any bone and went clean through. That meant it hadn't done any severe damage to his arm, and there wouldn't be the long and often complicated process of extracting bullets from someone. They propped Blackhole up and waited. Crimson seemed to have been hot on their tail, so what happened? Lance A few minutes earlier... Lance carried on, pedal to the medal. He knew they were approaching the Armera convoy, and it wouldn't be long until they had Blackhole in the-- Lance couldn't finish his sentence, as he was simply in aw of the fact that a grenade was traveling directly towards him. The 30mm explosive detonated against the windshield of the Paladin. Thankfully, however, Paladins were built to stop grenades. Instead, the Paladin veered off to the side of the road and smashed into the underbrush. Gameshow Gameshow didn't talk to his fellow operatives that much. He preferred to save his words for the mental torture he practiced upon Maverick's enemies. However, he did have words for Alpha Team getting blown off the road. He recoiled in shock. "Oh shit! Did you fucking see that? Are they ok!?" he exclaimed. Lead turned to face him, before snarkily responding. "Are you ok? Since when do you talk?" he laughed, only to be smacked in the face. "Don't you dare disrespect me, you snotty shitbag. Driver, let me out. I'll check on them. Keep going though, and don't let that Blackhole bastard getaway. Otherwise, this was all for nothing, and Maverick will have your head." The Paladin slowed down, and Gameshow hopped out with a medic bag, before sprinting over to the crashed Paladin. His Paladin hit the gas and took off down the road, guns blasting at Blackhole. Rebel Rebel blinked as she began to regain consciousness. The blast hadn't destroyed the window, however, it was seriously cracked. Guess Maverick knew what he was doing when he bought these things. She tried to turn, only to shudder in pain. She looked down at herself. Some shrapnel had pierced her and she was bleeding. She felt like she might have broken a rib or two. Looking up, she could see that Lance was breathing, though it was pretty ragged. As for Minister, she couldn't tell. That bastard had some solid reflexes though, so maybe he jumped out of the car? Her vision was still pretty crappy. She couldn't see much outside the car, and the ringing in her ears was intense, much worse than any flashbang. She blacked out. Minister Minister was trying to smash through the Paladin windows, but it was of no use. The Paladin was built to stand 7.62 rounds and grenades. His stock wouldn't do much, and he didn't want to risk shooting Rebel, who already looked pretty fucked. He gave up for a second until a man in a dark leather jacket ran up, carrying a blowtorch and a medkit. Is that... Gameshow? Since when was that freak on this operation? Gameshow sprinted up to him, mid-shout. "How in the hell did you get out? Did you like, jump out or something?" Minister turned up to face him, a half-smirk on his face. "As a matter a fact, I--" before Gameshow cut him off, a full smile on his face. "Ok boomer." Minister shook his head, before looking back down at the vehicle. He muttered to himself, before telling Gameshow to pass him that blowtorch, to which Gameshow happily obliged. Lancelot Lancelot woke up to the sound of Rebel being dragged out. He was shocked that he wasn't dead, but then realized that most of the window was ok, and only part of it had shattered. Thanks, Maverick. He couldn't move too much though, and he quickly realized his right arm was cut up by pieces of glass. He layed back down after he see Minister and... Gameshow? Huh. Maverick Maverick had been hoping the operation would go well. After all, the members of Strike Team Victor were valuable assets. He turned and looked up. Crow was busy at his computer, monitoring the situation with one of the drones they bought from Armera. Clearing his throat, Maverick demanded "Crow. Status report. What's going on down there. Did we get Blackhole? We ok?" Crow took off his headset and swiveled around in his computer chair, enjoying the little things. "We got Blackhole, but not before he fired a sawn-off Thumper at Lance's van." Maverick's eye opened a bit in shock, and he blinked. "He did what now? Is Lance ok? Is Rebel ok? How about Mini-". Crow cut him off before he could finish. "Don't worry Maverick, they're injured, but they'll live. They did everything they could, and Rebel called in a favor to get some assistance from Armera. "Things are looking up, Maverick. Stop worrying so much. You entrusted me with this operation, and I'll sure as hell get it done." End of Chapter. Category:Operations